‘Don’t be silly.’ He placed the mugs on coasters on a drinks table. ‘You’re family, and it’s not every day you discover that your long-lost father might be alive after all.’ He gestured to Dougie. ‘And I haven’t seen this fella since I got back from Pakistan.’ He cast his eye over the rug. ‘Just think. If you hadn’t helped to carry in Mrs Feldman’s shopping, you might never have found out that Kazi was at the funeral.’ There was an expression on Rubel’s face that I’d never seen before.

It was true. It was almost as if fate had thrown Rosa and I together – except I didn’t believe in that sort of thing. ‘You know the old iPhone that Mum’s got?’ I said to my sister. ‘The one she uses to listen to Bangladesh Radio. For months now, I’ve suspected that Dad gave it to her.’ I took the Forensic Services print-out out of my bag and handed it to Jasmina. ‘I had it tested for prints.’ I looked over at Dougie, and his eyes held mine for a moment. You might get good news, bad news or no news, he’d said, when I told him what I was planning to do. Right now, I had no idea which it was. He’d known Jasmina and me for over ten years. He’d watched as the cross-currents of grief and longing swirled in my life. Every day he’d seen me bury each tiny piece of hope that Dad was alive, and seal them over, one by one.

Jasmina traced her finger down the data on the A4 sheet. ‘Finger print patterns are inherited. Those obtained from the phone show very close similarities with yours and mine?’

‘Yep.’ I felt guilty for not telling her sooner.

‘Are you sure they aren’t mine? Or yours?’

‘Please don’t hate me. I gave them your prints and mine. Got them from our phones.’

‘Jeez.’ She walked over to the window and drew the curtains. ‘When you rang and said you had news, I wasn’t expecting this.’ She glanced at the photographs again. ‘You might have asked before you took my fingerprints.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I did it in a fit of impetuousness.’

Jasmina was solemn.

‘Sabbir wasn’t alive when that phone appeared in her room at the residential home, and I made sure I wiped the surfaces clean a few weeks before I took it. So, unless she’s got a secret visitor who happens to be a family member, they’ve got to be Dad’s prints.’